


You Hit What You Head For, You Get What You Ask

by Chash



Series: Just As You Are [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 19:55:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4317786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke comes back home after a summer away and has to deal with all the Blake sibling drama that generated while she was gone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Hit What You Head For, You Get What You Ask

**Author's Note:**

> So, for me, when I mark a series as complete, it mostly means "I have no specific plans to write any more of this, and if I never do, I think it stands on its own as being done." It doesn't mean "I'll never write any more of this," because if it meant that, I would never mark anything as complete. I write timestamps like it's my job. You might have noticed. Title from Ani DiFranco.

Clarke comes back to Williamstown on the last Friday of August, when Bellamy's at work. As far as he knows, she's not going to be back until Sunday, because Clarke can be sneaky when she wants to. And she's excited to see the look on his face when he realizes she's home early. She did tell Octavia when she was coming, mostly so Octavia could make plans to be out of the house, but she hasn't left yet when Clarke arrives. Instead, she's sitting in the grass on the front lawn, reading and very obviously waiting for Clarke to come home. It's obvious even before she leaps up at the sound of the car, grinning broadly and waving, and Clarke grins back, can't help it.

At fifteen, Octavia Blake is the same height as Clarke, with long dark hair and sparkling green eyes, gorgeous and fiery, all passion and intensity. Clarke didn't miss her quite as much as she missed Bellamy, but it was close. And that's--worrying. Not in the ways Bellamy thinks it is, not because she's a rising senior and the future is looming heavy over all of them, just--she loves Octavia. Not like a sister, she doesn't think, because Bellamy and Octavia are so much more than she and Octavia are, years and universes beyond, depths she can't even imagine.

But she does love her, and she's worried about that, because Octavia isn't thirteen anymore, quiet and subdued, still a little bit in mourning. She's chafing against Bellamy, his beliefs about curfews and mixed sex parties, and--well, honestly, Clarke thinks Octavia's right, and Bellamy needs to chill the fuck out. But Clarke doesn't really know her place in this. She's not Octavia's co-guardian. She's just Bellamy's girlfriend.

"Your brother did approve of you going to this sleepover, right?" she asks, once she and Octavia have finished hugging. "You aren't expecting him to be so happy to see me he doesn't care where you are?"

Octavia rolls her eyes. "He did. It's just Anya. He likes Anya. She's his favorite."

"How are you guys doing?" Clarke asks, sitting down in the grass with Octavia when she flops back down. "He seems kind of stressed."

Octavia huffs. "He's a dick, but that's on him. He's paranoid I'm going to get pregnant or something, which--I don't even know. No one wants me to get pregnant less than I want me to get pregnant. He doesn't have to worry." She slants a look at Clarke. "You're going to help, right? I know it's not your fault, but I'm pretty sure he's stressing out about you. He was miserable with you in DC just for the summer. I think he thought your mom was going to talk you into going to med school or interning in the senate or something."

"He's an idiot."

"I know. How is your mom? Does she still hate Bell?"

"You're not subtle," says Clarke. "I know what you're asking."

Octavia falls back in the grass. Clarke missed grass, living in the city for the summer. It wasn't like there was no grass in DC, but it wasn't the kind she could walk in barefoot, bask in.

It wasn't her grass.

"I'm not trying to be subtle," says Octavia. "I want you to stay here and marry my brother. I've been saying that since you two started dating."

Clarke has to smile. "Yeah, you've been pretty clear on that." She sighs. "I'll try to talk to him. He changes the subject whenever I bring it up. At this point, I'm just going to find a job in commuting distance and just tell him when I've got it."

"Do it sooner, or I'll murder him. Seriously, he's being so weird."

"But he approved the sleepover? If you're lying, he's just going to be pissed at me. Which won't make anything better."

"I know," she says. "You can text him and ask if it'll make you feel better."

"Nope, but I'll kick your ass if you're lying."

"Seems good." She rips up a handful of grass. "I'm glad you're back. We missed you."

"I missed you guys too." She pauses. "What else?"

"What do you mean?"

"You were sitting on the lawn waiting for me, and I already knew Bellamy was being fucking weird, so I assume there was something else."

"Not--" Octavia sighs. "If I tell you something, will you not tell Bell yet?"

"Oh god," says Clarke, rubbing her face. "Is it that bad? You better not be pregnant."

"Of course I'm not pregnant," she says. But then she adds, soft, "Please?"

"You know I can't actually promise that."

"I wouldn't ask you to if you couldn't."

Clarke considers that. It's probably true. Octavia and Bellamy fight, but she knows better than to put Clarke in the middle of it. "Okay. I won't tell him."

"Bell said--you're bi, right?"

It's about the last question she expected. "Yeah."

Octavia nods to herself. "I think--maybe I am too. And I don't want to tell Bell because he's freaking out about, like, me hanging out with guys, so if he thinks I like girls too he's definitely just going to lock me up in my room forever and sit outside the door with a shotgun."

"He wouldn't," Clarke says, amused in spite of herself. "I know he's being weird, but if you told him, he'd be supportive."

"You think he'd let me keep going to sleepovers?"

"Eventually," she says, grudging. "I'll try to talk to him about it. Not the bi thing," she says, before Octavia can protest. "Just--fifteen-year-olds are old enough to make out and be at parties, etc. I'm pretty sure he was doing way worse at fifteen. I know I was."

"That's probably why he's worried," Octavia says, rolling her eyes. "But that would probably be good. And if you can work in _I'm not moving away_ \--"

"I can't actually promise that either," she says. She wants to, but--there aren't a lot of jobs out here, and she thinks she'd be miserable, if she was unemployed in the middle of nowhere. It would be worse for their relationship than her leaving. "But I'm not going to leave and break up with him. Worst case, I'll go to Boston, and come visit you guys on weekends."

"That's not a good case."

"I know." She lies back herself, closing her eyes. "So, is there a girl?"

"Um."

"There is!" She nudges Octavia with her foot. "You like a girl!"

"I didn't say that!"

"But you do." Clarke considers. "Oh my god, it's Anya, isn't it? It's totally Anya."

"Nothing's happened!" she says. "But--yeah. I think I kind of like her. I don't know. I haven't--" She groans and flops back. "Have you ever had a girlfriend?"

"Yeah, in high school. I dated this girl named Lexa senior year, but--she went to Pomona, I came here, we broke up. We're still Facebook friends and stuff. She's doing well. Planning to go to law school. She's going to be terrifying."

"How'd you make that happen?"

"I didn't, really," says Clarke. "I didn't figure out what was happening until she kissed me at a party. It was so easy for me, it was great. I had to do like nothing."

"Not helpful," Octavia says, groaning and rolling over onto her stomach. "I don't want to, like--what if I don't like girls, and I make a move on her, and I screw everything up for something I'm not even, like--ugh."

"How did you know you liked guys?"

"I dunno. I had a crush on Aladdin when I was little. It all went pretty naturally from there."

Clarke laughs. "Okay, so--is Anya the only girl you like?"

"No. I like Jasmine now too." She worries her lip. "And, um, you. Just for a couple months, before you and Bell started dating. I didn't really know that was what was happening until later, but--I really wanted to impress you. You were, like, the coolest person I'd ever met, and at some point it just kind of clicked, like, oh, yeah, that's what's going on."

"Aww, thanks," says Clarke, grinning at her. "I'm totally irresistible to Blakes."

Octavia laughs. "That must be it."

"Anyway, just--don't worry too much about that, okay? Don't talk yourself out of liking people. If you like her, you like her. You can worry about labels later. If you want. Whatever makes you happy. And tell your brother," she adds. "You'll feel better."

"You tell my brother you want to marry him," Octavia shoots back.

"You're weirdly obsessed with our marital status. What if I want to live in sin?"

"Gross."

"Yeah, we're disgusting. Do you need a ride to Anya's or anything? More sage advice?"

"They're gonna come get me. I should probably go get my stuff, actually. I just wanted to talk to you first." She smiles. "I'm really glad you're back. Not just because Bell's been totally pathetic with you gone."

"I missed you too. Has he really been _that_ bad?"

Octavia looks a little sad. "He's been--I think he's kind of freaked out about, like--him graduating. He has a lot more free time now and he doesn't know what to do with himself. This wasn't exactly what he was planning to do after college."

"It's not your fault, Octavia," she says, gentle.

"I know. I just wish he'd fucking _talk_ about his issues instead of going all stupid and overprotective. Please save him."

Clarke smiles faintly. "I'm doing my best."

*

She's sitting on the couch watching Netflix when Bellamy gets back, and she resists the urge to run outside to greet him when she hears his car pull in. She might have actually hidden hers in the garage, which they never bother using when there isn't snow on the ground. She is being fucking _stealthy_. She is going to surprise him. There's no reason to ruin it by going out to jump him, when she can jump him in here, privately, in their house.

It's still kind of unbelievable, that she's actually _living here_ senior year, officially, instead of just crashing all the time. Her mom nearly exploded when she told she'd gotten approved to live off-campus senior year; that was honestly part of why she did the DC internship in the first place. A compromise, so her mother wouldn't call the Dean to complain that her daughter was going to live with her boyfriend. And it worked, even if it apparently sent Bellamy into some sort of bizarre, overprotective downward spiral of angst.

She's home now. She'll talk him out of it.

"I thought you were out tonight, O," he calls, when he hears the TV. "Everything okay?"

"She is, she left a while ago," says Clarke, standing and smiling at him. He's wearing a button-down and slacks, his hair tangled, and she really, really missed him too. It was only two months. It's _stupid_.

But his grin is so fucking good.

"Hi," he says, helpless, and he's across the room in three steps, kissing her long and deep, and Clarke wraps his arms around him and holds on.

"Hi," she says, breathless, when he finally pulls back. "I lied about when I was coming back."

He laughs and kisses down her jaw. "Not even going to pretend it was something else? Just straight-up lying?"

"Straight up. I wanted to surprise you."

"So, this is why Octavia told me she was going out tonight and I wasn't going to stop her, huh?"

"Basically." She pokes him. "She says you're being a nightmare, by the way."

He groans. "Can we at least have sex before you start telling me I'm being an overprotective dick?"

"I'm glad you already know what my complaints are," she says, laughing. "Also, I thought you'd want to eat first."

"You thought I'd prioritize food over sex? Really?"

"Good point." She tugs him down for another kiss. "How was work?"

"Not nearly as exciting as this." He tugs her into his lap on the couch, and she undoes the buttons of his shirt and pushes it off his shoulders. "Fuck, I missed you."

"I missed you too," she says. She tangles her hand in his hair. "You need a haircut."

"Clearly I'm incapable of taking care of myself."

"Clearly." 

He tugs her shirt off and slides his hands up her sides, leaning in to kiss her neck. "Thank you for getting my sister out of the house. You're the best girlfriend ever."

"Because if there's one thing Octavia hates, it's spending time with friends. I had to force her out. She hated it."

Bellamy laughs and undoes her bra, and she slides it off. He leans in to nuzzle her breasts. "How about we stop talking about my sister," he suggests.

"How about we go up to our bed, if you really want to have sex," she grumbles. "The couch always fucks up my back."

"Our bed?" he asks.

"You didn't forget I was moving in, did you?" she teases. "Because I've got a bunch of shit to unpack in my car and nowhere else to go."

He shakes his head, grinning. "No, I remember. Just, you know. _Awesome_." He pushes her off his lap and takes her hand, tugging her upstairs to _their room_.

"I should have waited to take my shirt off until we were in bed," she grumbles.

"You should never wait to take your shirt off."

She slides her shorts and underwear off and stretches out on the bed. It definitely feels like home. Like _her bed_. She's slept here more than anywhere else in the last two years, and it's really good to be back.

"God," says Bellamy, staring at her with his most overwhelming expression, the one that says he doesn't understand how she ended up in her life, that he doesn't believe he really gets her. "You are so hot."

"Gorgeous and fucking amazing," she says, smug, and he strips off his undershirt and slacks and slides on top of her. 

"You're never going to fucking let me live that down," he says, kissing her jaw.

"That is the best thing anyone has ever said to me," she says. "Or, you know, texted to me. I'm putting it in our wedding vows. It'll totally scandalize my mom."

He pauses in kissing down her throat, but only for a second. "So, you think I'm gorgeous and fucking amazing too, huh?" he asks.

She grins. "You'll do."

*

They don't drag themselves downstairs for another couple hours, and they eat cereal half-naked on the couch because they're too lazy to do anything more complicated. Like cooking or getting dressed.

"So, your sister thinks you're freaking out about me graduating and taking it out on her," she remarks, nudging his ankle.

"Huh."

"That's it? Seriously? You're not even going to deny it?"

"I don't have to. That's just her theory."

"You are being kind of a dick. You told her she couldn't go to a co-ed pool party."

"There were boys there."

"There are boys everywhere. Boys are half the planet."

"Yeah, but--I remember being fifteen, okay?"

"So do I. Telling her she can't do shit isn't going to keep her from doing it, it's just going to make her feel like she can't be honest and talk to you because you'll freak out."

He narrows his eyes at her. "What did she tell you?"

"That you're being an overprotective dickbag, which I already knew."

He rubs his face. "I just--she used to be pretty happy being home most nights, you know? And I don't know--can she do that? Is that too much? I can't just let her do _everything_ , right? Parenting books say boundaries are important."

Clarke leans against his side, smiling. "How many parenting books did you read, exactly?"

"Uh, no comment." He sighs and rests his head against hers. "I have no idea what I'm doing, fine. I'm supposed to try to keep her from having sex, right? That's the goal?"

"Or you could just talk to her about sex and let her make her own choices."

"She's fifteen."

"That's how old I was when I lost my virginity."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Why? How old were you?"

"Seventeen."

"Because you were such a giant nerd, no one wanted to sleep with you?"

He snorts. "Love you too."

"Octavia's going to sleep with someone when she wants to," Clarke says. "And if she wants to, you telling her she's not allowed to stay out after ten p.m. isn't going to stop her."

"I know." He squeezes her shoulder. "She talks to you, right? About this stuff."

She worries her lip, but she's not going to lie to him. "Yeah, some."

"Good. I'm not sure she'd want to talk to me even if I wasn't--"

"Being a dick?"

"I was going to put a little more delicately."

"Yeah, that's why I cut in first. She's doing okay, I think. Just--relax, okay? She's a good kid. You're doing a good job." He's quiet, and she pokes him. "You know that, right? You are doing a fucking awesome job with this. You're--" She grins. "You're gorgeous and fucking amazing, Bellamy Blake."

He ducks is head, laughing. "Thanks."

"You are, though."

He squeezes her. "I don't even remember how I did this without you."

"Yes, you do."

"I do, and it sucked." He sighs. "I didn't have anyone to talk to about stuff. Neither did O. I mean, we had each other, obviously, but--it's not like any of my friends had any idea how to help."

"I don't actually know any more than you do."

"You were, up until recently, a teenage girl," he points out, amused. "And you're here a lot. You know her."

"Yeah." She finds his hand and squeezes it. "Do we need to talk about graduation?"

"We've got a while."

"You know I'm planning to stay here, right?"

"You shouldn't have to."

"I don't have to. But I want to."

He sighs and leans back against the couch. "I thought I'd be okay if you left, you know? Long distance is fine. It's just two years. But--god, I fucking hated that, and it was only two months."

"If I leave, I'll just go to Boston or New York or something," she says. "It's not _close_ , but--I could come for weekends. And that's, like, if I don't get a job within six months of graduating or something."

"It's not that," he says, scrubbing his face. "I hate that I can't go with you, okay? And I hate that I hate it. I want to take care of O, I don't want to make her leave her home and her friends, but I hate that I don't get a choice about what I'm doing with my life until she's--at least eighteen, maybe longer, depending on where she wants to go to college and what I need to do. And I hate that you have to do all this shit too, that you have to be so fucking serious about me when we could just be--"

"Bellamy," Clarke says, gentle. It does suck, but--not all of it does. "I'm fucking serious about you because I fucking love you, moron. I'd be planning to go where you were anyway." She rubs his hair, smiles when he leans into it. "It's just two years," she says. "Maybe a couple more. And then we can move, if you want. It's not like here sucks, though. There are some cool job prospects. The college might hire me. They hired you, so their standards are clearly low." He snorts, tugs her closer. "There's WCMA, and MoCA, and the Clark. The Clark has to hire me, right? We're name twins. It's destiny."

"You should definitely put that in your cover letter." He sighs and leans into her. "I really want you to stay here," he admits. He hasn't said it before, and she knows he's been trying not to. 

"I know. I'm going to make it work." She squeezes his hand. "I know you're giving up a lot of stuff for Octavia, but--I don't feel like I'm giving stuff up for you, okay? I don't want to be anywhere else."

"Now," he says, and it's wistful, a little sad. "But--if you change your mind, you can leave. And I can't."

"Yeah," she agrees. There's no point denying it. If she decides she doesn't want to deal with raising a teenage girl in a tiny college town at least three hours away from civilization in every direction, she can leave, and he can't. He can't follow her if she decides to apply for one of the jobs her mother sends her, or wants to go to grad school somewhere else. He's stuck, and she isn't. "But that's kind of always true, you know? I could always leave you."

He laughs. "Thanks. I feel so much better."

"Any time."

He tugs her into his lap. "What did your mom say?"

"The usual. I could probably still make it into med school even without the public health major, if you really love me you'll understand that I need to pursue other opportunities, she still thinks you're a remarkable and admirable young man. I pointed out if she's really interested in running for president in the next decade or so, you're probably great. Hard-working young man heroically raises sister alone after mother's tragic death is, like, the best possible son-in-law story for PR shit."

"You keep mentioning our eventual marriage."

"Octavia thought it would help."

"She's really worried about me, huh?"

"Or really stifled by your sudden weird puritan morals, but, yeah, let's go with worried."

He snorts. "Fine, I'll stop setting boundaries. She can stay out all night, get drunk, get high, get hooked on heroin, and when she's dying in a ditch somewhere I'm going to blame you."

"If that ever happens, you can feel free to put all the blame on me."

"I'm really glad you're home," he says, resting his chin on her head.

"Me too." She snuggles back into his chest. "I think I'll stay."

*

Bellamy's working full-time at the admissions office, which, weirdly enough, means he's got more free time now than he did when he was in college. No classes and no second job means he has weekends entirely off, and he's actually been kind of disconcerted by it. Clarke got calls in DC where he realized he'd played all his video games and read all his books and didn't know what else to do with himself. Bellamy's really bad at extended downtime.

Now that she's back, he seems less upset about it. They sleep in and have breakfast and have sex in the shower, and then she sends him to the grocery store so she can pick Octavia up from Anya's.

"I want to tell her you're going to be less weird," she says. "Are you going to be less weird?"

"I've promised that like five times." He kisses her. "Do you want it in writing? A new contract of what Octavia is allowed to do?"

"Wait, is there an _old_ contact of what Octavia was allowed to do? Because that could be part of the problem."

"Shut up. You can tell her I will have a reasonable conversation with her about how I've been a dick whenever she wants. But if she wants me to pick her up from wherever she is at night, her curfew is still ten. Some people have work in the morning."

"What if I pick her up?"

"Then that's between you guys."

Clarke worries her lip. "Yeah, but--I don't want to overstep my bounds or anything. I know I'm not--"

"Clarke," he says, gentle. "I told you. I'm so fucking glad you're here, okay? I don't have anyone else to tell me I'm being a dick, except O, and she's biased. And you already gave me the lecture about how you can pick her up when she needs a ride, so I've got that." He smiles. "You're not her mom, but I'm not going to tell you that you're overstepping your bounds if you argue with me. I'm not her dad either. We're all just kind of--doing our best."

"Okay," says Clarke. "So, I'm going to go pick her up and tell her that. And you're going to get me some _good_ cereal at the store. Something with marshmallow pieces. None of this bran shit. You can have old-man cereal, but I'm in college, I want something unhealthy and neon."

"Never mind, I don't want you hanging out with my sister. You're a bad influence."

Clarke shoves him into his car. "Bye, Blake."

Octavia's waiting outside for her when she gets to Anya's house. She seems to think that Bellamy and Clarke need to be prevented at all costs from interacting with any of her friends' parents. Clarke would be offended, except she's pretty sure it's less about being embarrassed and more about trying to protect them from meddling. It's kind of sweet.

"I yelled at him," says Clarke.

"You have a hickey on your shoulder," says Octavia.

"Well, I didn't _just_ yell at him."

Octavia snorts. "I hope that means it went okay."

"Yeah, I think so. You guys might still manage to turn it into a screaming match, but I did my part. Anything else is on you two."

"That's fair."

Clarke grins at her. "How'd it go with Anya?"

Octavia rolls her eyes. "We ate too much pizza and played video games until we passed out. No life-changing revelations about our sexualities or anything. Sorry to disappoint. Don't get over-invested in my love life. It would be creepy."

"You're over-invested in mine. Fair's fair."

"Yeah, okay. Did you set a wedding date yet?"

"You'll be the first to know." She smiles at the steering wheel. "He said he wanted me to stay."

"Duh."

"I know, but--I didn't think he'd actually say it."

"Yeah, we're all proud of him." She puts her feet up on the glove compartment. "Thanks, Clarke."

"That's what I'm here for," she says, and it feels--true. Good.

She likes it.

*

Her mother calls on Monday, when Bellamy and Octavia are both at work. 

"Marcus said he was interested in hiring you after graduation. He was very impressed with your work."

"I know," says Clarke. "He mentioned that to me too."

"But you're not interested." She lets out an irritated breath. "Clarke, you have nine months before graduation. A lot can change in nine months. I don't think it's very wise to turn down an opportunity like this because of a boy. And I don't think he'd want you to do it, either."

_He would_ , Clarke thinks. He wouldn't say it, he would tell her to take the opportunity, but he wouldn't _want_ her to go. He'd be miserable, and he'd tell her to take the job. Because he's Bellamy.

"I told him I wasn't sure," she says. "I said all the right things. Great offer, I'm keeping my options open, I'll keep him in mind. But--there are good opportunities here, too."

"Nothing like this. Marcus is doing important work, Kane Technologies is an industry leader--"

"I know," says Clarke. "I know all that. But there are going to be other opportunities, and more good opportunities in two years. And this--they're my family too, Mom."

There's a long silence. "I don't want you to look back on your life in ten years and regret this, Clarke."

"I do," she says. "I want to do this now. If this is a mistake, I want to make it. Maybe I'm going to look back in ten years and decide that staying with Bellamy was where it all went wrong. That's fine. You can tell me you told me so. I'll give you that one, if it happens."

Her mother laughs, sudden and unexpected, and Clarke relaxes all at once. "I don't know how to argue with that."

"You can't. I'm potentially fucking up my entire life for a boy. I've made up my mind."

"You get that from me." There's another pause. "I suppose I should meet them, then."

"I'm sure you'd be welcome for Thanksgiving."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"And if you call Bellamy and tell him to break up with me again--"

"I won't."

"Good. I love you, Mom."

"I love you too. Say hello to Bellamy and Octavia for me."

"I will. And I was serious about Thanksgiving. We'd love to have you."

"I'll check my schedule."

Octavia goes up to her room as soon as she and Bellamy get home, and Bellamy flops down next to Clarke on the couch.

"She told you she's bi?" he asks.

"Yeah."

"Good. I would not have done well with that conversation."

Clarke laughs. "You really wouldn't have. She's a smart girl." She leans on his shoulder. "I invited my mom for Thanksgiving."

"Oh, fuck, why?"

She shrugs one shoulder. "It's a family holiday, right? She wants to meet the family."

"I guess you're right." 

"I'm always right. I can't believe you haven't figured that out yet."

He laughs and wraps his arm around her, giving her shoulders a squeeze. "I'm getting there."


End file.
